Upon his return, David was thrown straight back into the life of the mission station at Kuruman. Since he was the only doctor for hundreds of miles, people flocked to the station for help. And while David tried his best to treat all those who came to him with medical needs, he kept reminding himself that he had not come to Africa just to stay in one place and lance boils and bandage wounds. He had come to preach the gospel message to people who had never heard it before. And so, almost as soon as he arrived back at Kuruman from his trip north, David began planning another trip. This time, though, Roger Edwards made it clear he would not go along. For him, it was just too dangerous to take such a risk again. But not for David Livingstone. Indeed, by now his fellow missionaries had figured out that David actually seemed to thrive on taking risks.
In February 1842, David set out on a second trip north. This time he took four Africans with him, Pomare and the other guide from the first trip plus two men to take care of the wagon and tend to the oxen.
On this trip, David wanted to return to visit the Bakwains, particularly Chief Sechele, as he had promised, as well as map out some more of the countryside. He chose a different route from before to take him north, and although he did end up among the Bakwains, it was not the group he had anticipated. He arrived at another village, the residents of which, although they were Bakwains, were bitter enemies of Chief Sechele and his village. This village was called Lepelole, and it was led by a chief named Bubi. When Chief Sechele was a young boy, Chief Bubi had killed his father, and from that time on, hatred had erupted between the two villages.
David refused to take sides in their hostilities and instead spent his mornings treating the sick and injured and his afternoons working alongside and talking to the people of the village. By doing this, he was able to quickly pick up the Bantu language until he was able to speak it quite fluently. He did, however, make a few embarrassing mistakes. Since Bantu is a tonal language, the same word could have several meanings, depending upon the tone in which it was spoken. In the course of preaching about sin, David discovered that because of his pronunciation he was actually preaching against cow dung!
Regardless, David was given much respect in the village because of his ability to heal people. Only one other man in the village was given the same level of respect, and that was the rainmaker. Because the people of the village had no way to get a lot of water from the river to their crops, regular rain was very important to them. Hence, it was the rainmaker’s job to make sure it rained regularly.
Thinking back to the irrigation system at Kuruman, David decided it was time to do something about the problem and in the process make the rainmaker obsolete. He laid out a string about four hundred fifty feet in length from the river to the gardening area. David wondered how he could dig a channel that long. He had only one spade head without a handle, and he knew the Africans used only sticks to dig with. He decided, however, to dig with what he had. He stripped off his shirt, found the spade head in the wagon, and began to dig. Soon a crowd of curious onlookers gathered around him. After watching for a while, one man picked up a stick and joined David. Others followed his lead until over one hundred people were scraping and picking at the dirt along the line of string. A system using tortoise shells and wooden bowls to scoop out the dirt and cart it away was soon developed.
After several days of hard work, the channel was finally finished and water flowed to the crops growing in the garden area. Everyone, including the village rainmaker, was pleased with the results. By the time David was ready to leave, he had become the most popular man in the village. Still, despite his popularity, he was determined to press on farther north. He said farewell to Chief Bubi, promising him they would meet again.
Soon after David left Lepelole, he received word that Chief Bubi had died. The chief had asked the village witch doctor to remove an evil spell he was convinced someone had put on him. The witch doctor had decided to do this by standing Chief Bubi next to a tree he intended to blow up with gunpowder. He felt sure the blast would frighten away the evil spirits that had brought the spell to the chief. Regrettably, the chief was standing too close to the tree and was killed by the explosion.
David was very discouraged when he heard what had happened. He had told Chief Bubi many times that God was the only one who was able to help him find the peace of mind he sought. Now it was too late. The chief had died a senseless death.
David stretched out the map of Africa in front of him. He had filled in many details on it from his travels, but as he examined the area directly north, he had no real clue as to what might lie ahead. All the map said of this area was “Unexplored Kalahari Desert.” David refolded it and slipped it back into his leather satchel.
Everyone in the group was now walking. The wagon and all but four of the oxen had been left behind. The plain the men were about to cross was too sandy, and the wheels of the wagon would have become stuck in the sand almost immediately. The men had loaded their things onto the backs of the four oxen, which they now led. As he trudged on, David was thrilled to think that he was the first white person to see the scrubby hills and windswept valleys the group was walking through.
Even though the men were only on the southern edge of the Kalahari Desert, getting enough water each day was soon a concern. The African guides, however, knew which plants were moist enough to squeeze water from when they could find no springs.
After two weeks of trekking northward, the group arrived at a Bamangwato village, ruled over by Chief Sekomi. The three thousand or so people who lived in the village gave the travelers an enthusiastic welcome. David went straight to work treating the sick and learning as much about the villagers’ culture as he could. Whenever the opportunity arose, he spoke to people about God’s love for them, but it was difficult for the people to grasp the full meaning of what he said. The people had never heard of such a God before, and the very word God itself caused confusion. The Bamangwato word for God meant “a very important person or being,” and so the people spoke of many gods. When David cured people of their medical problems, the people even called him God!
It was all very difficult, but David was determined to find some way to get the idea across to the people of the village. He knew he had succeeded to some extent when Chief Sekomi visited him in his tent one evening. After some brief talk about what had gone on during the day, Chief Sekomi came right to the point. He looked David in the eye and said, “I have come here to ask you for something. Give me some medicine that will change my heart. I am too proud, and I always feel angry with my people. I don’t want to be like that anymore.”
David reached for his Bible. “My friend,” he said, holding it up, “the only medicine that will change your heart is found in this book, if you will….”
“No, no,” interrupted the chief. “You don’t understand. Now. I want my heart changed now. I want medicine that will change me now.”
Of course, David had no medicine for Chief Sekomi’s condition, and after a few more minutes of demanding the impossible, the chief left.
The next day the chief did not mention his visit of the night before, but David was encouraged to think that at least Chief Sekomi knew he needed something to change his heart. Now all David had to do was think of a way to explain exactly what it was the chief needed.
David was determined to go about twenty miles farther north to visit the Bakaa tribe, and he told Chief Sekomi of his plans. The chief’s eyes opened wide. “No,” he warned, “you must not go to the Bakaa. They are vicious people. They will surely kill you as they killed the other white man and his group.”
David frowned. He had not heard about any other white people in the area.
“Who were they?” he asked.
“I do not know his name, but he was a trader traveling from the east.” Chief Sekomi lowered his voice for dramatic effect before going on. “I hear they poisoned his food and water, and when all his party died, they killed his oxen and ate them.”
“I will have to be extra careful then. Thank you for the warning,” replied David.
“You would still go?” asked Chief Sekomi incredulously. “I do not understand you. You risk death for what?”
“To find out who lives there, and to prepare the way for the gospel message,” said David firmly.
“Well,” said Chief Sekomi, rubbing his chin. “If you must go to the Bakaa, you will not go alone. I will send four of my warriors with you, though I fear you will all perish.”
David thanked the chief and returned to his tent to pack his belongings for the trip. He wondered whether the chief was right. Was it a suicide trip? Perhaps it would be safer to just turn around and head back to Kuruman, but David Livingstone had been stubborn all his life. He was the only weaver in Blantyre to become a doctor, and the only doctor in his class to become a missionary. When he made up his mind about something, he did it. And he had made up his mind. Despite the danger, he was going to find out who lay to the north, and that was all there was to it.
Chapter 9
Mabotsa
Run! Quickly, this way. We must hide.”
The people of the village fled at the sight of David Livingstone and his men. By the time David was standing outside the largest hut, only three people were left in the entire village: the chief, with a scowl on his face, and two of his servants. The servants looked fearfully at David, and the chief spoke harshly to them. “Stay here. I will not flee my village like an antelope running from a lion.” Then he walked up to David and looked him in the eye. “You are not welcome here. My people say you have come to avenge the death of the trader, but you would be a fool. Go now, while you can.”
David stood his ground. His mind whirled as he thought about what the chief had said. The whole village was afraid of him. The villagers were afraid he had come to kill them because they had killed a white man. No wonder they had fled! Now David had to think of a way to convince them he had come in peace. But how?
In an instant, a plan flashed through David’s mind. David had to show the villagers they had nothing to fear. Careful not to make any sudden moves, he pulled a sack of cornmeal from one of the bags slung on the back of an oxen. He poured some of the meal into a pan and asked the chief for some water to mix it into a mush. When the chief looked confused, David knew his plan was working. The trader had been given poisoned water, and now David was showing the chief he was not afraid he might get the same treatment. Finally, one of the chief’s servants brought him an ostrich egg filled with clear water, which David stirred into the cornmeal to make the mush.
“Thank you,” said David. “This will do just fine.” Then he walked over to one of the fires that had been abandoned and heated the mush over it.
Keeping his eyes firmly on the chief, David eventually sat down cross-legged on the dusty ground and ate the mush right out of the pan. “Delicious,” he said, making sure he ate every scrap. “I think it’s time for a nap now,” he continued, lying down beside the fire. “I hope we can talk as friends when I wake up.”
“I told you you’re not welcome here,” bellowed the chief. “Get up and leave now.”
David lay still and prayed silently as the chief stood over him, his spear in hand. The chief stood there for about two minutes before turning and walking away in disgust.
David was awakened half an hour later by an amazed Pomare. “It’s all right. The others have come back, and they say we can stay in the village. They are preparing food for us!”
Sitting up, David brushed the dust from his sailcloth pants. “Thank God,” he said in English, smiling at Pomare. “They know they have nothing to fear in us, and since we trust in God, we have nothing to fear in them.”
